


Don't look back in Anger

by RosesandCrosses



Category: Batgirl (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Barbara Gordon is Batgirl, Batgirl - Freeform, Batman - Freeform, Bruce Wayne is Batman, Dick Grayson is former robin, F/M, Jason Todd is Robin, Robin - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-12 00:28:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29626338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RosesandCrosses/pseuds/RosesandCrosses
Summary: Everything has changed in the last 18 months and Barbara Gordon has been forced to reassess everything she has been taught. Suddenly, she is flung into a situation she never thought she would be in just in time to help train the new Robin, Jason Todd and try manage her damaged relationship with the Bat before things go from bad to much much worse.
Relationships: Barbara Gordon & Bruce Wayne, Barbara Gordon & Jason Todd, Barbara Gordon & Jim Gordon, Barbara Gordon/Dick Grayson
Comments: 3
Kudos: 20





	1. Chapter 1

Even after years of being a trained fighter, coming up against Gotham’s worst, and being trained by the best combat fighter of all time, getting punched in the face still hurt. 

Barbara found herself being constantly surprised at how she never got used to being beaten up. When she had started her career of vigilantism, she has expected that overtime her body would grow an almost second skin, making it easier for her to sustain and recover from constant blows to her body. 

Yet, it didn’t exactly work like that. 

Yes, she found herself being able to get up and keep going longer and faster than she had before, but the pain never got any easier. The bruises never hurt any less and the stitches never left a scar that was less severe than the first she had ever received. 

So, when she found herself in the middle of a boxing ring being punched by a Russian fighter five inches taller than her and at least fifteen pounds of pure muscles on her, she felt every single blow like she was running into a concrete wall headfirst. 

The underground fighting arena, if you could call it an arena, was a place Barbara Gordon never thought she would ever be, but if she was being honest with herself, she had ended up in a lot of places she never expected to be in the past six years since she had taken up the mantle of Batgirl. 

She had spent more time with Gotham’s scum than she had with anyone she loved and wanted to be around. Her friends and family had to take a backseat and the criminals of the city were her companions' whether she wanted them to be or not. Batgirl could tell you the movements of every criminal down to a tee, but she couldn’t tell you what her best friend did for work, or if her father had gotten time off in the same space of time. 

It was depressing to think about, and the punches in the face definitely didn’t help. 

She could hear the mobsters and drug dealers surrounding the ring screaming at her and her fellow fighter. They probably had thousands of dollars on this fight and losing that type of money in an unregulated fight wasn’t something that these people took lightly. She wasn’t exactly thrilled that she was the object of the entertainment for these people tonight, but they were unknowingly giving her a service they could never have possibly guessed. 

With every bruise she received here, she had an excuse for the other six she would receive on the rooftops of Gotham city. It was a perfect plan, but a painful one. 

The Russian had gotten in a good few punches that had stung, and Barbara could already feel the bruises forming on her face, probably turning purple every moment that passed. Even as the woman continued to beat her into submission, she couldn’t help but feel bad for the woman. Barbara was here for one reason and one reason only, able to leave and go back home to her nice warm bed and forget about this awful place. This girl was probably being forced into this ring and being controlled by half a dozen of the men in her corner. 

Barbara had been undefeated in nine fights, the longest anyone had ever gone which was earning her a name around the underground, another perfect piece of her puzzle. The undercover cop in the crowd that she recognized from the GPD files would surely let her father know about her underground activities, giving her an alibi for the physical injuries she sustained almost nightly. 

There is only so much even Batgirl can take when you are repeatedly punched square in the face and eventually the Russian landed a hit that knocked the wind out of her and plunged her to the ground. The crowd let out a roar that wasn’t a cheer or a shout, but a mix of both with a tone of aggression that let her know she wasn’t going to be safe if she stayed on the ground for much longer. 

Barbara rolled over onto her front, getting ready to push herself back up to her feet and face her opponent once again when she spotted him. He was stood at the back of the crowd, surrounded by the other high-end betters who had enough money to get away with illegal activity such as this. 

He wore a full-length trench coat that she guessed cost more than her entire apartment and a crisp navy suit that had been pressed to one inch of its life. Their eyes locked almost immediately and even though he wasn’t scowling on the outside, the look in his eyes was undeniable, It was the same look he gave when he was unhappy, which was almost always, and he looked down at his watch as if to say, “hurry up and get on with it.” 

Barbara knew he wasn’t one to be left waiting, so she pushed herself up onto her feet and faced the tower of a woman in front of her. Admittedly, she only felt slightly guilty when she finally punched the Russian in her left shoulder, the one that she had been protecting all night. This caused her to pull back instinctively and open her hands up, allowing Barbara to hit her straight in the face and upwards under the chin almost simultaneously which knocked her cleanout. 

At that exact moment, Barbara’s arm is grabbed and forced into the air in a declaration of victory and before anyone could act on the abuse they were threatening her with, she was pushed into the dressing room. 

She went to the locker that had been assigned for her, after all an underground undefeated champion deserves luxury, right? Either way, she was happy to have a place she could leave her bag, even if only had a towel and hoodie in it. She took out the towel, wiped her face with it then looked at herself in the small mirror in the side of the locker. 

She could see the bruises that she had felt forming begin to pop up under her eyes and beside her cheek. It was a good night's work, and she was happy her face was still numb even before she put the numbing cream on. While she was applying it, she saw him in the mirror standing behind her with the same expression he had had in the arena. 

Even though no one was technically allowed into the dressing room while she was there, she guessed no one said no to Bruce Wayne, especially when he had his checkbook with him. 

“Is that one from tonight or from Monday?” he asked, referencing the bruise on her cheek, the one more purple. 

Monday had been a tough night. She had run into an escaped Clay face and decided she couldn’t wait for the electric currents of the taser to take him down and ended up attacking him full on. She had hoped the Batman didn’t know about it and she could take care of it before he had to get involved, but she realized how naive that was the second the thought popped into her mind. 

Of course, he knew. He knew everything. 

“The fact that you can’t tell means it’s working” she quipped back, not bothering to turn around and face him. “Plus, I get quality firsthand information about the Mob. More mobsters come in through here every week than either of us have seen in six years. It’s pretty valuable what you hear when people think you aren’t listening.” 

That was always one of Barbara’s biggest strengths. The fact that no one thought she was a threat. No one felt they had to be careful around her or had to be overly aggressive with her because to the outside world she was just a fragile young woman who could never take down their empire. 

“If only they knew the person they were betting on every week was the one foiling their plans and hacking into their databases.” 

The quip was as humorous as Bruce ever got; she was pretty sure she had never seen him genuinely smile in the entire time she knew him. She presumed he was trying to make the atmosphere a little less awkward and tension-filled for the same reason he usually did - because he wanted something. 

He wouldn’t bother to make small talk or quips if he was here to tell her off or warn her against taking down criminals alone. 

“Alright Bruce, why are you here?” She had had enough of the dancing around the issue and was ready to hear whatever he had come to confront her about. 

“I need you to come in.” 

‘Come in’ meant come to the manor. She hadn’t been in months and whenever she was asked to 'come in’ it was usually for something desperate, but she wasn’t getting that feeling with him right now. 

“Not for me, for Jason.” 

Now that, she wasn’t expecting. 

It had been nearly a year since Jason Todd had barreled into both of their lives and changed it forever. The seventeen-year-old was the new robin and as far as she knew his training was going as well as could be expected. Plucking someone from the street who was completely out of this world and pushing them into a life of crimefighting wasn’t the easiest transition, but Bruce had done it successfully twice before so he was sure he could do it again. 

“What about Jason?” she asked as she turned around to face him. 

Bruce shifted and for a split second, she saw his face grimaced uncomfortably. Her tone hadn’t even been snappy, which it usually was with him nowadays, so she wasn’t exactly so sure as to why he was awkward about this topic. 

“I need you to help him with the gymnastics, you were both much better than I ever was. He’s struggling with the maneuvers related to knife disbarment and I think- I know- your help will give him the edge.” 

It was probably as kind as she was ever going to get from Bruce Wayne. The closest he would ever get to say he was proud of her abilities and that she could offer something to his life. She internally cursed herself for feeling delight at the thought of him praising her and she wondered why on earth she still cared about his opinion, especially his opinion of her. 

She thought about saying no. 

‘Piss off Wayne, I am not your substitute teacher’ she imagined saying to him. Sending the Batman packing was tempting considering all that had happened between them in the past few years in particular and she had always secretly wanted to have the power that he seemed to always possess over her. 

Yet, she couldn’t bring herself to do it. 

She had been the young new protégée at one point in her life and she wouldn’t have made it if she hadn’t mastered her skills with the help of another Robin. She couldn’t abandon someone who needed her and could learn lifesaving skills if she could put her fragile ego to the side and help him, and God knows he would need it. 

She had to put the bitterness behind her for the sake of the teenager and help him in any way that she could. 

“Ok,” she said, almost in a sigh of acceptance. “For Jason, I'll come in.” 

While she packed up her bag, getting ready to get out of this seedy underground lounge, she heard Marty, the owner of this fine establishment, clammer into the room. As he opened the door, in the background she could still hear the roar of the crowd, obviously still rowdy from the event and pummeling she had just given the Russian. 

Marty was as seedy as they came. A short man who couldn’t have been younger than fifty wore a vest that she guessed was white at one point but had enough stains on it to turn it off yellow. He also sported a gold chain that hung onto his robust stomach and his forehead had a constant layer of sweat that made his bald head glow. 

He was the type of guy that could never fight himself, so instead chose to surround himself with criminals and get on their good side through the only thing they cared about, money. 

“There’s my girl!” he almost shouted in a deep Gotham accent that Barbara only a twinge of and Bruce Wayne would never be caught dead sounding like. “The record holder herself, you gave us a scare there, thought she really had you.” 

“Well, someone who has at least 15 pounds on me will do that Marty” Barbara snapped. “That wasn’t what we agreed!” 

“Ah I always believed in ya!” he spoke as he crossed the room handing her a bundle of cash. It was at that moment that he seemed to notice Bruce standing on the other side of the room and was visible taken back by his presence, but Barbara couldn’t bring herself to care or even try to explain why Bruce Wayne, millionaire philanthropist was in her dressing room. 

“This also isn’t what we agreed Marty!” she yelled at him after looking at the cash. 

In reality, Barbara couldn’t have cared less about her take, after all, she wasn’t exactly here for extra pocket money. She worked a full-time job, and it wasn’t as if she couldn’t ask her friends in high places for money if she was ever so desperate that she needed to fight in an illegal boxing ring, but she couldn’t let people know that. She had to be Barbara Gordon, a lonely Librarian who fought in these matches to pay off her student debt or medical bills or next week's rent, and that Barbara wouldn’t roll over and take being screwed over. 

“Look girlie, you get the percentage of the take, it’s not my fault you didn’t attract as much as the men's fight,” he said looking her up and down. She waited for her skin to crawl like it usually did, but when it didn’t. She realized she must be getting used to the constant creepiness that this place ensued. 

She rolled her eyes at him, knowing she wasn’t going to get anywhere with him tonight, especially if he was going to come up with stupid excuses like that one. It also didn’t help that he clearly presumed she had friends in high places and wasn’t really in a position to be groveling. The illusion that she was a poor Gothamite fighting for scraps was gone out of this place the second Wayne even glanced at her. 

“But maybe there would be more interest if the commissioner's daughter was on the ticket.” 

Shit. 

“You better keep that shit to yourself Marty, or else it won’t be the Russian that will be needing the emergency room next time” she threatened, knowing it would mean nothing. Her career as an undefeated champion was now over and there were no threats, she could use to reverse that. 

She was happy enough for her father to hear through an undercover agent or word on the street that she was fighting in these rings but opening using her name to garner attention for a fight was too unbelievable of a story, even for her. 

“Let’s go,” she said to Bruce as she stormed out the back entrance, not wanting to risk walking past the angry Russians yet again and causing a scene. Now that she knew this place was worthless to her she wanted to leave as fast as she could and never look back, in fact, she hoped now that she wasn’t associated with it her father's agent could hurry up and get it shut down, but good lord he was taking his time. 

Swinging open the door to the back-alley she was surprised, yet not surprised at all to see the brand-new silver Mercedes sitting there in all its glory. It was then she realized this was all a part of his overall plan. 

This only added to Barbara’s annoyance as she heard Bruce click the keys behind her and she had the door open and closed again faster than you could say hello and she imagined at that moment she looked like a spoiled child storming into her dad’s car after he had embarrassed her at the school gates, but she could hardly bring herself to care. 

She was forced to wait as Bruce played his, “I am a millionaire flaunting my wealth” game as he crossed the front of the car and slid into the driver's seat, sporting a cocky smile as he went. 

“So, this is why you didn’t just call” Barbara snapped the second he closed his door. “You wanted to make sure I could never come back here again.” 

When he didn’t answer and stared forward as he drove through the city, she knew she was right.


	2. Chapter 2

The drive was quiet, but not with a comfortable silence. 

Barbara sat with an anger that she had become accustomed to, one that was more disappointed in herself for not foreseeing this outcome than anything else. After all, Bruce Wayne had always trained her to think ahead, plan for the future and expect the unexpected, yet she felt as if she had been played yet again and she was sick of not recognizing the games she was a part of. 

Bruce on the other hand drove in a Stony silence that said, ‘I know you are angry, but I don’t care. I did what needed to be done and I would do it again.' 

It was the type of indifference that defined him, it made him the best, but it was also what made him the world’s biggest pain in the ass. 

This type of interaction made her miss the days when all she wanted to do was impress him. She would strive to make it nearly impossible for him to not be proud and he knew he could always call on her no matter how big or small the problem was. Defying him was much harder but she could no longer go back to the days where she was naive to his deceptive ways. 

Things had changed and they couldn’t go back. 

As they got closer and closer to Wayne Manor, the roads became quieter and quieter. Gotham was a city of ten million people and living in a building with thirty-plus apartments was common, but the manor always felt like it was in a world of its own, and to the rich, it probably was. 

Barbara had surmised that Bruce hadn’t conversed with a Gothamite who wasn’t the child of a millionaire or important figurehead until he was well into his teens and even at that the only ones, he seemed to spend any time with were the ones in the criminal profession. 

The rich lived a different life, simple as that, and Barbara had long gotten used to the disconnect between knowing the rich Waynes and living in the poor Gordon house. It had never bothered her, but she couldn’t pretend like as she got older, she didn’t start to notice it more. 

While all of Bruce Wayne’s adopted children went to Gotham Academy without hesitation, James Gordon’s daughter went through an academic scholarship, a sports scholarship, and a lot of hard work on his part to put her into such a prestigious school. 

The irony wasn’t lost on her, but she tended not to dwell on it. 

After all, this was one of the rare things that Bruce Wayne couldn’t help about himself. He hadn’t scammed anyone out of their money or made his millions through the fruits of other people’s Labour, he was just born rich. A typical trust fund baby who had more money than he would ever need, even while dressing up like a bat and building elaborate war machines to fight crime. 

As they got to the gates of the old stone mansion, they opened slowly, as if representing the gloom that she was feeling about being back here. It had been months since she had even thought about coming back to this place and she wasn’t exactly thrilled about the situation she had found herself in that had brought her back. 

Bruce pulled up in front of the grand doors to the house but made no move to turn off the car. Barbara turned without a word, hoped out and closed the door behind her with a little more force than was probably necessary, especially for such an expensive car. 

She didn’t bother looking back as he drove off to her right, surely taking the car into the garage that held at least eight more, and instead opted to walk straight up the doors. When she got to the top of the steps, she felt an odd sense of uncertainty. 

Should she knock? 

She felt odd just walking in now. 

How many times had she done that without even thinking? This time two years ago if she had knocked on the door Alfred would have been disturbed at the action, insisting that she not make such a fuss about entering what should be considered her home too. 

Except now it didn’t feel anything like a home to her. It felt like a heavyweight on her back that she was being forced to stare at despite the obvious struggle it was causing her. 

In the end, she opted to knock lightly as she opened the large doors. 

Best of both worlds, she thought to herself. 

“Alfred?” she called out into the vast open space of the hall. The same black and grey colors looked back at her as they always had, but now they had a coldness about them that hadn’t been there before. As if the house hadn’t been lived in for years, even though she knew it was housing a seventeen-year-old who was bound to be leaving his socks lying around and dirty dishes in the sink. 

Almost as if by magic, an older man with glasses hanging off the end of his nose appeared from behind a corner wearing a red apron and black leather gloves. She couldn’t tell if he was dressed for serving food or fixing a car engine, but she guessed it was probably both. 

“Ms. Gordon!” he said, with a genuine beam that was infectious. She couldn’t help but smile back as he wrapped her up in a hug that was rivaling any she had ever received. 

“Hi Alfred, how are you?” 

“I’m good my dear, better now that you are here” he quipped finally letting go of her but resting a hand on her shoulder. “You made me wait a long time for a visit I must say.” 

A pang of guilt suddenly hit her and washed over her like a bout of rain. She had never even considered Alfred in her avoidance of the Wayne property and thinking of him genuinely missing her Presence, along with all the other changes that occurred over the past eighteen months or so must have been incredibly hard on the older man. 

“I’m really sorry about that, I’ve been so busy” she started. “But that isn’t an excuse, really I promise to get down more often from now on.” 

“Not to worry, you are here now!” he beamed. “I presume you are here on business?” 

“I am” she replied. 

She had enough father figures to last her a lifetime, but Alfred Pennyworth was not one she was sorry about having. The older man brought a sense of normality to the bizarre situation she found herself in and when she spoke to him, she always got a sense that he thought this whole thing was nuts. It grounded her to a place that even her father couldn’t bring her due to the fact she could be fully honest about her situation, as opposed to with the commissioner, and he wasn’t completely deluded like her so-called Bat-dad was. 

“I’m here to see Jason actually.” 

“Ah, well he is in the cave. I trust you remember where that is” he answered as if she hadn’t practically grown up in the cave. “You head down, and I’ll bring you a drink. Water? Tea? Something stronger?” 

“Water is perfect thanks, Alfred.” 

He nodded slightly and smiled, turning away through the grand arch of the kitchen, and just before he went out of view Barbara called him. 

“Alfred!” 

With that, he whipped his head around so fast that the small tuff of grey hair flew up. 

“It is great to see you.” Barbara tried to pour all the sincerity that she could muster into her voice, to make sure he knew she was being serious, but whatever worries she had about not come across as genuine soon disappeared as she saw the slow smile creep across the butlers' face and he turned back to his task. 

Barbara took a minute before she almost mechanically walked down to the very back of the grand house and followed the small windy stairs down to the elevator that scanned her retina and chimed back, “Gordon, Barbara, Access Granted”. 

Going down the glass lift, everything came into focus slowly as she descended into the innards of the almost mythical basement which was bigger than most people’s entire houses. 

She saw the Giant penny in the corner and next to that the ridders cane which the dynamic duo had confiscated long before she had shown up. A staircase led up to several suits encased in glass cylinders. The very first bat suit that Bruce had worn when he first ventured out into Gotham in, the black battle armor he wore in a duel against Bane, the very first Robin suit, pixie boots and all, and finally at the very end was her first suit. 

The one she had worn to the Halloween fancy dress party in an effort to embarrass her father as retaliation for not allowing her to apply for the police force. Little did she know her vigilante career would start that very night when all she thought she did was save a playboy millionaire from a man dressed in an even more ridiculous costume than hers, a moth. 

She had since moved onto an all-black suit made of Kevlar that was not only bulletproof but also could last longer than twenty minutes in the rain, but something about seeing that suit made her strangely nostalgic. She hadn’t worn it for very long, Bruce insisted she move on pretty soon after he started her training, but it was a reminder of why she started doing this in the first place. Just to save one person from something terrible and go from there. 

On the training mat on the lowest floor of the cave, Barbara finally saw the person she had come here to see, bouncing off a combat dummy like it was going to hit him back if he tried hard enough. He was tall for seventeen, well above her height, and was already starting to fill into his stature. He had broad shoulders and was lean as opposed to overtly muscle. Not too big that he couldn’t pass off as an athletic teenager, but strong enough to fight off some of the worst people you could encounter. 

She was hoping to observe him for a little bit longer and see how he was getting on without the pressure of him being watched, but the second the elevator came to a stop he spun around, gleaming at her with an excitement she hadn’t seen in anyone in a long time. 

“Barbara! Hey!” he said, almost tripping on his words. “What are you doing here?” 

“I’m here to check up on you bird brain” she mocked. “Came to see how you are doing.” 

When she reached him, she pulled him in for a hug, genuinely happy to see him. His jet-black hair was plastered onto his face with sweat and it was clear Bruce was working him to the bone. She hated to say it, but it was what he needed if he was to survive this life. 

“Really?” he questioned as he pulled away. He sounded doubtful and she couldn’t blame him. It wasn’t as if she had been a regular feature in his training thus far, but she was determined to give him everything she could with the time she had with him. 

“Bruce asked me to maybe show you a few things, they might come in handy in the future.” 

“Why couldn’t he just show me himself. He’s the one who trained you right?” 

The arrogant tone wasn’t lost on Barbara. It was the same one she had heard on every teenage boy she had ever met. She held back the urge to roll her eyes as she pat him on the shoulder. 

“Because Bruce didn’t teach me this.” 

They made their way to the balance beam, an illusion built by Bruce designed to push you to the very limits. It was designed like a giant tree trunk, hanging at least fifty feet in the air, with wet branches and curves that you could slip on at any time. 

If you could fight effectively on this, you could fight anywhere. 

She reached up to take off her jumper, leaving her in her sports bra and black shorts in which she had Faught earlier. To warm up she completed a back handspring as if she was ready for action immediately and stretched her arms behind her back, trying to loosen the knots that had built up in her neck from both the fight and the tension with Bruce. 

She watched as Jason carefully jumped up onto the beam, or trunk as it was now being projected, and let the rain that was falling from a roof that didn’t exist wash down over his face and cool him down from the workout he had been enduring before Barbara had come in. 

The rain was designed to be a distraction to them, to prove that in the outside world they wouldn’t be met with perfect conditions and they would have to adapt to anything that was thrown at them. 

“Let’s go red” Jason called to her as he positioned himself, ready to spar. 

They stood looking at each other for what felt like forever. She wasn’t used to being the aggressor when it came to her fighting style, she was a lot more defensive than either of the batboys were, but she knew she needed to allow him to show her how he fought, so before she could overthink it any longer, she reached forward and went to punch him in the face. 

This caused him to dash out of the way, which also caused him to almost slip-on wet branch, but she was impressed at how fast he recovered and stood straight, getting ready to counter-attack. 

When he lunged forward and downwards, Barbara saw what Bruce had seen and why he had asked her to help. Jason was pushing all of his weight towards his attacker, leaving his chest wide open for attack. That would be ok if he was Batman and was able to deflect the oncoming attack, but he wasn’t Batman and no matter how hard and long he trained, he would never be. 

So, if he was to continue with this style of fighting, he would need to be lighter on his feet to dash away from the counterattack which would come. She also couldn’t help but notice how aggressive the lunge was and even though she deflected it, if she hadn’t, her collarbone would have been looking more like an L shape right about now. 

That’s the Bats problem, she thought to herself. It wasn’t on her to teach the morals of the job; lord knows Bruce would handle that side of things. 

Seeing the problem gave her more clarity and she set about showing Jason some techniques that could help him with his flexibility and movement. It was going to take hard work, but if he could go from a street kid fighting for his next meal to a trained crime fighter in a matter of months, Barbara knew he could do this too. 

She also tried to teach him a sneaky maneuver that helped you disarm someone with a knife. It was harder than disarming someone with a gun as there were more ways one could hurt you with a knife and it took serious practice. 

“You are pretty decent at this whole thing” Jason quipped. The smile on his face was almost as infectious as Alfred’s, but not quite. He had pearly white teeth that were straighter than she remembered, and she couldn’t help but wonder if he had gotten new ones since he’d adopted the life of a millionaire's son. 

“I almost went to Olympics you know” she quipped as she did a scissors leap. She could show off when she wanted to, but she often chose the more effective ways to end a fight than dramatics. It had been a long time since she had practiced gymnastics for fun as opposed to doing it to survive. 

“Almost seems like the keyword in that sentence.” 

Ouch. 

Jason was clearly messing with her, but she couldn’t help but feel a sharp pain in her heart. Another sacrifice for this life, another thing she didn’t pursue, and another hobby she thought she couldn’t live without that now came second to responsibility. 

“That’s true, but I can still kick your ass.” 

With that she jumped into the air and landed behind him, lowering herself to the ground and sticking her leg out, and tripping him. He fell, but only just, and landed on his back, from there he pushed himself up on his hands and went to push himself up from behind, almost in a crap position, but before he could move Barbara hit him in the face, sending him flying off the edge of the trunk and down into the abyss. 

Well, under the illusion it was the abyss, but, when he fell about five feet, he suddenly landed face-first onto a crash mat and the illusion was suddenly gone. Another trick of the mind that the bat was so fond of. 

Even after years of being Batgirl, successfully taking down crime lords, terrorists, and men with weapons so powerful they could out entire cities if they wanted to, and still she was underestimated. She had hated it when she was younger, would make her rage with anger, but she had grown to be as dismissive of it as people were of her. She learned to use it to her advantage. 

Not that she liked hurting people, but she had to admit, seeing Jason flat on his face after she saw the flash of doubt across his face was satisfying. 

“I’m not used to taking such a beating from your kind red” Jason spat, trying to pick himself up off the floor. 

“Don’t worry, you’ll learn” Barbara quipped as she jumped down, helping him up. “Come on, that’s enough for today, just make sure you work on what I showed you.” 

“Sure thing!” he said, trying not to sound too elated. She couldn’t help but look at his enthusiasm as a weakness. She kind of hated herself for becoming so negative, but it came with this job. She had been just as eager as he was now, and she mourned the naïve yet ambitious young woman who wanted to save the world. 

“So how is it all going?” she asked in an attempt at small talk. 

“Brilliant!” he said, even more, elated than before. “You should have seen me last night, I was unstoppable!” 

“I more meant about school, you know making friends and settling in?” 

He looked at her as If she had just insulted him, then rolled his eyes as if he had never heard anything more ridiculous. To add insult to injury, he scoffed at her as if to put the final nail in the coffin and thought she was completely stupid. 

“You know this life isn’t for everyone Jason,” she said with sincerity, looking at Bruce walking into the cave. He was walking with purpose, as always, towards Alfred who was at the computer. They spoke in hushed tones until Bruce saw her staring and made his way over to the pair. 

“How did it go?” Bruce asked, almost like a father collecting his son from football practice. 

“Great! The understudy thought me all she knew.” Jason wore his signature smirk as he spoke that Barbara hated and loved in equal measure. 

“He’ll be a natural in no time, but only if he practices!” 

The tone of her voice almost made her cringe. It was as if Barbara and Bruce were fighting parents, putting on a brave face for the kids, pretending everything was fine. As if he read her mind, Bruce put on his stern father's voice and sent Jason away. 

“I need to talk to Barbara alone.” As if they had to discuss important adult things that children couldn’t be in the room for. She felt a bit ridiculous, but when Jason looked at her for a reassuring glance, she nodded at him, sending him on his way. 

When he was far enough away from them that he couldn’t hear them, bickering with Alfred about something, Bruce finally spoke openly. 

“Well?” 

“I could see it a mile away, that right shoulder?” 

Bruce nodded, looking back at his new protegee. 

“I knew he needed you.” 

Barbara let the silence hang in the air and wondered how long she would have to wait until she could leave. It wasn’t as if manners were her main concern when it came to him these days, so she didn’t know why she was worrying about formalities all of a sudden. She decided to just turn and leave, not worrying if it was rude or unacceptable, but before she could, he once again turned and looked at her. 

“I know you have been tracking Falcone’s men at the docks” he almost snapped. “I need all the information you have on it.” 

No more small talk then. 

“No” she replied, just as solidly as he had asked, and with that, she turned away from him, not interested in discussing it anymore. 

She had worked tirelessly for weeks to gather that information. Literal blood, sweat, and tears went into gathering the intel on a massive drug deal that had been in the works between the Falcones and an unidentified buyer that could effectively make this new dealer the biggest in the city depending on what the product was. 

If Bruce had cared about what she was up to for the past few weeks he would have checked in with her, but no. Instead, he let her do all the hard work, interrogating witnesses, surveilling the homes and deal locations, and hacking into the personal phones and laptops of everyone involved, only for him to show up last minute and demand she shares all of her information. 

In the past she would have done it without hesitation, in fact, she would have given him the information on a minute-by-minute basis, updating him as often and as detailed as she could. Now, she was in no mood to hand over her hard-earned work without some sort of push back. 

However, before she could move any further, he forcefully grabbed her forearm and pulled her back. 

“I am serious Barbara.” 

“Back off Bruce” she warned. She wasn’t in the mood to play happy families with him, especially after what had happened earlier. “You need to let me handle this. I don’t work for you.” 

Even as she said the words, she could hear how pathetic they sounded out loud. A small cry against a roar, one lonely soldier up against an army of trained assassins, and a naïve hope up against a stark reality that she actually did work for him. 

Batman had access to everything and if he wanted something, he would find a way to get it, it was only a matter of time. 

He seemed to confirm her inner thoughts when his eyes became clouded and serious while he spoke. 

“As long as you have that symbol on your chest, you are under my authority whether you want it or not.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys!   
> I didn't say anything for the first chapter because I wanted to settle in, but hi! Thanks so much for reading!  
> This is my very first Barbara Gordon fic, she is my favorite character in DC and I am so excited to write this!  
> The story is nearly completely done, but I have decided to release week by week.   
> If you guys would like it twice a week, please let me know!
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy and am excited to hear what you guys think! 
> 
> Thanks!  
> *&*


	3. Chapter 3

Anger and rage really were her new forte nowadays. 

She hadn’t stopped thinking about Bruce since she stormed out of the manor, even after she’d run all the way back from the manor to her apartment in the city, did some meditation, and tried to shove some dinner into her before she started to get ready to head out for the night. 

Who did he think he was? 

The entitlement had clearly gone to his head like it never had before if he truly felt like he had the right to come in and take the information off her like she 

It’s for the good of the city, she could almost hear him say. 

Good of the city my ass. 

She had been helping to defend Gotham for years, she would and had put it ahead of nearly anything else in her life. She had cracked bigger cases without him while he was off being brooding about robin and she knew she would again in the future. He had been a great teacher, the best in fact, but he had thought her all she needed to know and now she was well able to not only defend herself but the citizens of Gotham. 

The master of all things knowing should have known that the demanding intel from her on the verge of a patrol was going to mess with her head. That was unless he had done this all as a ruse, a plan she didn’t yet see to make her so annoyed by even asking for it that she would compromise herself and end up playing right into his hands. 

It seemed outlandish, but you really couldn’t take any chances with Wayne. 

Of all the things that had changed in her over the years, the paranoia and second-guessing were the worst. Every single decision came with overthinking, every choice had to be carefully planned out and every truth told to her had to be analyzed for any hidden deception. 

Her trust issues were now sky high and she often wondered if she would ever trust anyone fully and with her whole heart again, but somewhere deep inside her wished she could. 

No matter how difficult and frankly scary it was to give yourself over to another human, completely and with all your heart to the point, you would trust them with your life, there was nothing quite like it. It gave you a rush of confidence that you would never have anywhere else. 

She wondered if that was why Bat brain kept accepting new understudies because no matter how little they could trust him, he always knew he could rely on them. 

So much for working alone. 

She stood in her room, looking down at her equipment spread out across the bed. It was no Batcave, but it did the job. Her suit was lying flat across her bed as if it was resting before a long night of work, and beside it lay her tool belt, filled with batarangs, tear gas, a taser, a grappling hook, a swiss army knife, and a laser. 

She let out a breath, almost in anticipation, before she moved to start putting on the metal suit. The legs went first, dragging against her skin, heavy like a weight, then the arms, one by one, and then a long zip that went from her stomach to the side of her chest, so as not to disrupt the large yellow bat symbol on the front. 

She reached down, grabbing her cape, and clipped it to each of her shoulder pads. The yellow inside of the cape matched the bat symbol, giving the outfit almost a fashionable look as if it was designed to be on the front pages of a magazine. 

Batgirl saves the day again! 

Young vigilante following in the footsteps of the masked crusader bests Gotham's finest criminal minds yet again! 

No one had warned her that fighting crime would be more blood stains and less Vogue. 

Bruce Wayne wanted her to look professional to intimidate the scum who wore nothing but their badges of crime. However, all that did was encourage them to play dress up too, a bit of an unexpected consequence. 

She pulled her all-black gloves on and activated the controls on them, which helped amplify grip and stop her from any nasty gashes from a knife that someone might try to stab her with as she gripped it in a twist. 

Finally came the mask. The only thing that protected her and the ones she loved from her second life, the demons that she battled within back allies, rooftops, and prison cells. The ones that would skin her family alive just to get at her or the batman. What’s one life to a crime lord who could use it to take down the one thing stopping him from world domination. 

It was the first lesson that Bruce Wayne ever thought her, and it was the most valuable one too. 

It went up and over her head, like a helmet, and sat right into place around her eyes. When she was younger, she told Bruce and Dick she would cut off all her hair so she could keep it out of her face, but when Alfred fashioned her, this new mask that kept it completely out of her face to the point she hardly noticed she had any. 

She took a moment to look into the mirror before she rushed out into the night. 

Her eyes bore into her reflection, almost as if she was judging herself. Her posture was straight, and her muscles were stiff as if she was ready to fight at any moment's notice. That was another advantage to this suit, it got you into character, ready to begin the act. 

She was tired, but not just physically. 

She was young but felt a million years old. 

She was ready, but never so unsure. 

One more deep breath and out her window she went, jumping straight into Gotham’s arms. 

\----------- 

She didn’t even take notice of the fact she was headed towards the docks, that’s just where she had found herself going nightly for the past few weeks. 

It itched her to know that Batman would know exactly where to find her tonight if he wanted to track her down, but she needed to be here. It had been weeks of back and forth between Falcone’s men and this new mysterious buyer and she knew sometimes this week would be a substantial meeting, ether between Falcone himself or his top henchman. 

She landed roughly on top of a cargo crate, probably destined for somewhere in Europe, but tonight acting as leverage for her to see the entire Harbour. 

Then she waited, another thing she didn’t know would be a huge part of her career, and looked out for any signs of activity. 

She didn’t have to wait for long as towards the right end of the docks, right between two high-rise cargo containers, Babs saw the flickers of light that could only be torches. The docks had security, but they were often low-paid workers who would happily look the other way if it meant they could be slipped some much-needed money under the table. 

The world was never all black or all white. 

She waited until the sidemen had done their ‘checks’ around the surrounding area, hoping that they wouldn’t bump into anyone ready to hit them with their crowbars, and when the lights stopped flashing aggressively, she snook over and perched herself in the shadows where she could see them, but they couldn’t see her. She felt the cold container under her knee even through the suit, which was saying something. 

All dealers met the same way. 

Two sets of semi-circles facing each other and only ever two people talking. The rest were there for intimidation and protection, no one of importance but were usually the first to get hurt when It came to going up against the firing squad. 

Tonight, was no different, a group of regular Falcone men stood around in a semi-circle, surrounding Arlo Griffin, the top man who ran all dealings when it came to buying and transporting product into Gotham. Once it was in it was passed down to the regular dealers who could pass it out to Gotham’s communities, where they would usually wreck the lives of normal, hardworking people trying to make it day-to-day. 

She wished she could solve the greater drug problem in Gotham by herself, but she knew that was going to take a lot more than just beating a few of the head dealers to a pulp and her band of merry bats to do that. 

Arlo Griffin was a short stuffy man, attractive dark features with sharp eyebrows that meant he always looked serious even if he was laughing, which he rarely was. Tonight, as usual, he wore black trousers matched with a denim jacket that was closed up to the neck and let a gun hang off the side of his belt to look intimidating. 

It usually worked, however, tonight he was opposite someone who Barbara had never seen before, but who definitely didn't look intimated. 

The man looked like he belonged more in a lab than a drug deal. He was tall and lanky with large round glasses that made his nose look extremely pointy. He had sandy blonde hair and even though he looked out of place, his calmness showed he wasn’t worried about the situation in the slightest. 

Barbara caught them in the middle of their conversation. 

“This needs to be done Griffin, we expected the shipment last week, my boss doesn’t take kindly to timewasters.” 

“What would make you feel more comfortable with the job?” Arlo called to the un-named man, looking like he couldn’t care less what the man wanted, but more just wanted to move the conversation along. 

“I need to speak directly to your boss.” 

That caused a murmur and a few low laughs. 

“Clearly you don’t understand Gotham” Arlo spat. 

Now it was time for the other man to laugh, a low almost evil laugh that caused the hair on the back of Barbara’s neck to stand up, and she wasn’t one to scare easy. 

“Oh, believe me, I do. As does my boss.” At this point, the man started pacing back and forth between his group of men and right in front of where Arlo was standing. “We know why Falcone has a problem with being seen in public because no number of bozos like you can protect him from the Batman.” 

That almost incited a reaction from Arlo, Barbara could tell as he placed his hand on the top of the gun on his waist, but he resisted reacting at all and she was impressed when replied in a cool tone as if he couldn’t have cared less at the insult that was just sprung his way. 

“End of the day, the boss won’t come face to face unless your boss does, he doesn’t usually deal in this type of product, so he is taking a risk by doing it already.” 

The other man stopped pacing and walked directly up to Arlo, so close Barbara could barely hear them speak. 

“You better get your boss to decide what is more important, his pride or his money. He’ll be getting none of it unless we get our product by this time next week.” 

Arlo looked taken back, which was rare from a man who was known to cut peoples tongue's out when they got on the wrong side of him. Why was it suddenly this man who was setting him on edge? 

Barbara couldn’t tell but watched keenly as the man backed away from Arlo and let his eyes go wide in a mocking way. 

“The rest is up to your side Mr. Griffin, you know what we want” and with that, he stepped into the car that one of the henchmen was holding the door open from. 

Who the hell is this guy? 

Who is his boss? 

What is the 'special product’ that Falcone was importing into Gotham specifically for this deal? 

Well, you aren’t going to find out sitting around here, Barbara thought to herself and let Arlo and his guys sulk off into the shadows while she somersaulted down the containers and as she jumped down to ground level, she wiped out a control button and pressed it, causing a beeping to start. 

When she got to the ground, she landed gracefully as if she had jumped onto a trampoline instead of the gravel. As she was standing up straight, the beeping got more intense until finally, it stopped, and she shows her bike drive itself around the corner and stop right at her feet. 

She quickly jumped onto it, taking off the cruise control and speeding off into the night. 

The wind rushed around her as she used the bike's nav system to track the car which had left the docks not two minutes before. When she locked on its location, she used her skills to catch up in record time, and as if by lightning she was suddenly behind the car which contained the mystery buyer. 

She knew she couldn’t let them get onto the highway or main road of any kind, too much risk of crashing into an innocent by-passer, so she swung the bike to line up right beside the driver's side and flipped on the cruise control, letting the smart bike take over the driving. She stood on the seat and took a minute to balance herself. 

She was thankful that the car windows were blacked out because she might have a chance to avoid detection while she leaped, but in a minute it wouldn’t matter. 

She leaped from the bike and landed with a thud on the car roof. She knew she only had a matter of seconds before the individuals in her car would start trying to kill her through the metal, so she wasted no time in reaching down to the right side of the car and swinging open the back door. 

Barbara heard the yelp of the man that she was now throwing out of the car, meaning that she had gone undetected as she rode behind them, which she counted as a win at this point. Then, when he was tumbling down the road, passing out along the way, she threw herself into the car without a second thought. 

“Hello fellas” she quipped as she landed in a sitting position in the back suit. “Any room for me?” 

At that moment, the man sitting beside her pulled a gun and pointed it directly at her face, ready to send her to the pearly white gates in the clouds. Before he could give her that honor though, she grabbed the base of the gun and pointed it upwards, causing him to shoot the roof of the vehicle, where she had been lying seconds before. At the same time, she used her flattened hand to hit him in the throat which caused a reflex in his body to push back against the car door. 

She reached over and opened the second door, pushing him out. At this point, the driver had slowed the car down, meaning the man would be ok, but hopefully wouldn’t try and run back into the action, like his Buddie further down the road. 

She took a split second to recognize what a terrible position she had found herself in. She was now lying flat across the back of the car with her back completely exposed to any weapon or danger the two front-seat passengers had. Immediately she pushed herself up but it was too late, the passenger seat occupant had pulled out a knife and slashed her back. 

The suit took most of the damage, but she still felt a sharp pain in her back, knowing she would have to stitch that up later. She pushed past the pain and sat back up in the back seat, facing her attacker head-on, and used her fist to knock the knife out of his hand while reaching around and grabbing the seat belt which he had strapped in with. 

The belt wrapped around his neck, causing him to panic and grab frantically at it, which gave her time to reach down to her belt, grabbing mace and popping the cap off. She sprayed it straight into his face until she felt him stop struggling with the belt and pass out. 

Suddenly the car came to a complete stop and the sudden jerk distracted her enough to let the driver turn around and punch her full force in the face. 

Ouch 

Before she could even get her bearings, the man was out of the car and running down the road away from the car. 

“Not on my watch” she almost shouted as she jumped. 

She had a few seconds on the man as she didn’t have to open the door that had swung off when she had kicked another man out of its moments ago. She reached into her belt and pulled out a Batarang, steadied herself, and threw it directly at the man running away from her position. 

It hit him directly in the back of the head and as she was about to walk over and finish him off, she was grabbed by the neck and pulled off the ground, causing her to choke. 

The man who she had kicked out of the car a few meters away hadn’t passed out and decided he did want to come back for more action. 

She tried to use his body weight against him by pulling downwards towards her feet. It worked for a moment, causing the man to release her neck but once she turned around to face him, he grabbed her by the neck again and pushed her down towards the car bonnet, and started inflicting a beating that even Batman would be envious of. 

She was getting absolutely pummeled. It was the only word for it. 

This guy was strong, and he had her pinned up against the car so that she couldn’t escape his grasp, so she was forced to endure the beating while she tried to out-think her opponent. She felt her nose crack and then start to bleed while tried to breathe through the pain with every break between each punch. 

As he was beating her into submission, she realized he was the same man who got up into Arlo’s personal space, the man who looked like he was the leader working for the main boss, just as Griffith himself was. 

She finally got her break when he decided to start attacking her body with a blow to the ribs, which gave her time to reach behind her back and grab a shard of glass and use it to stab the man through the cheek with it. He screamed in her face and reached up on a reflex to try to aid the pain. 

She thought it was ironic that he had been inflicting mind-numbing pain on her moments ago, but the moment she fights back, he screams in anger, as if she should roll over and take her fate and not trying to change her destiny as if it was pre-written. 

Barbara pulled herself together and used all her strength to pull herself off the ground. She knew most of her strength would be reserved in her legs, so without a second thought, she used the end of her boot to kick the shard of glass all the way through his flesh, and in one swift move, she grabbed the back of his neck and pierced his skin with a tracker. 

She hoped the pain in his cheek would distract him to the point he wouldn’t realize he had just been injected, but she didn’t have the time to hang around and see if he noticed. 

It was now her time to run, she knew when to back down and she had done what she needed to do and now it was time to leave. She wouldn’t last one more punch let alone another beating and she did want to live long enough to see the fruits of her labor. 

While the man rolled around in pain, she jumped onto her bike that had stopped itself once she had jumped from it to the roof of the car and let the cruise control take her back to her apartment, desperate for any slight respite that she could get. 

\------------- 

Sitting at her computer in her one-bedroom apartment was a usual position that Barbara Gordon often found herself. No matter how much she trained in gymnastics, excelled in academics, or locked up another of Gotham's criminals, she felt she truly strived in front of a computer screen. 

She could hack anything, faster than anyone and make sure no one was any the wiser to her intrusion on a company or a drug lord’s accounts. 

Tonight, she was waiting for her tracking device to come online, praying that the man hadn’t realized he was being tracked and cut it out on the spot. So far it hadn’t pinged online, but sometimes it took a few hours to synchronize with the tech. 

She had already taken off her suit, washed away the blood around her face and nose, and stitched up her back, which had been incredibly hard to do considering she had to do it looking in a mirror. Now she was sitting only in a tank top and her underwear, letting the chill of the night creep over her. 

She looked down at the digital clock and cringed as it read 5:49 on it. 

The sun would start to rise soon, and she would have to face a new day of trying to cover up the excessive marks on her face. It was always a new challenge to her to try and come up with new ways to use makeup to cover up a black eye or a swollen lip. 

A messed-up challenge for sure, but still one she semi-enjoyed. 

You had to take all the small joys in life you could, and Barbara was determined to take any small win she could. 

Just like when the tracker finally came online, and she realized she had gotten away with the implantation. She quickly scanned the screen, seeing he was in lower Gotham in a warehouse that she knew many of her victims went for medical attention as to not arouse suspicion in a general hospital. 

She knew if she could keep monitoring him for even a few more days, she would have her key directly to this new buyer and find out what the hell he was trying to bring into Gotham. 

Finally, the sun broke up through the horizon and almost hit her in the face, like a reminder she had to give in to her body and finally sleep. Which was at the exact moment she accepted that tomorrow’s problems could wait till then.


End file.
